Tales of Fatherhood
by ChibiWolf86
Summary: Haytham had faced many trials in the past, but nothing could prepare him for this! With Ziio gone, young Ratonhnhaké:ton is left in his care. Now Haytham must raise his son while learning how to become a proper father. (One-Shot Series)
1. Nightmare

**Hey everybody I know it's been a while since I've been active on FanFic, but I don't really have much time to write as much as I would like to. I decided to do a oneshot for Haytham and Connor since i love the two soo much and it's sad how things ended between them. So I decided to write something short and simple about the pair.**

**I'm not sure if I'm going to make this a oneshot series or not so stay posted! (I know Ziio passed away while Connor was five, but decided to make him four instead :) For more cuteness!**

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Haytham had grown accustomed to living alone. Through out his life, he watched as loved ones were taken away from him another's hand, or simply by forces that he could not protect them from. Even Ziio, his love, left him by her own accord, and yet by the foolish mistake he had made from the start. Had he told Ziio the truth, perhaps his life would not be one person short? She could have been lying in bed next to him, happy and content. But there was no going back was there? What's done is done and Haytham had to gone on without her.

It was long past midnight and the moon had shone its rays through the window of Haytham's master bedroom. For once, the streets of Boston were calm and quite with the occasional passing horse or carriage. Even on nights such as this, Haytham still found it hard to sleep. He lay on the left side of his queen-sized bed with his arm cradled under his pillow. With his eyes shut, he allowed himself to rid his mind of any thoughts preventing him from a decent night's sleep. However, just as he began to drift from his restless consciousness, the door that led to the main hallway slowly push open with an eerie creak. Haytham's first instincts were to grasp the knife placed on his nightstand. But through the silence, a muffled sniffle caught his attention and made him loosen his grip on his knife.

"Aiden…" Haytham sighed in relief. He pushed himself into a sitting position and pushed a few stray hairs out of his face.

Standing in the darkness of second floor hallway, was his four-year-old son, Aiden. The boy was clad in his simple nightgown. One arm laid limp by his side white the other was crossed over his eyes as the boy hiccupped with tears dripping from his chin. The very sight of his son in tears brought both pain and panic to the Grand Master's heart.

The boy had only arrived into Haytham's life only but several months ago. Despite the time spent together, Haytham had not yet grasped the ways of Fatherhood. Aiden, the nickname given to the lad by Haytham out of convenience, greatly resembled Haytham in his childhood years. Often times, he looked back on how his father treated him back in London. And yet, while the technique worked to a certain extent, young Aiden had never cried before. At least, not in Haytham's presence.

After a few moments of listening to his son's stifled cries, Haytham pushed back the comforter of his bed and walked over to young Aiden. The poor boy had both hands to his face to shield his eyes from his father. Haytham bent down to one knee and cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Aiden what's wrong? You should still be in bed," Haytham said in the softest tone he could muster. These last few years, his voice only knew but scolding and harsh tones to order around those below him. But now he was trying his best to low his tone to something suitable for the young boy.

With another hiccup, Aiden finally spoke up, "I-I had a bad dream."

Haytham sucked in a breath. A nightmare. Once again, he flashed back to the days when he would have such dreams. And on those nights he rested in the arms of his mother and father to find security. At such an age his parents were the only things that could ward away such nightmares.

Bringing his hand to the top of Aiden's head, he gently stroked hi hair in an attempt to calm him. "I see," Haytham began, "And what was this _bad _dream about?"

"Mommy…" It was the only thing the boy could make out before continuing to cry into his hands.

Ziio. Haytham could only fathom how many nights young Aiden must have spent crying over his mother. When Haytham lost his mother, he was much older and was able to handle the melancholy emotions that followed. However he couldn't imagine what must have been like for Aiden, who was only four, and was still so young and small.

"I assume you do not wish to go back to bed?" Haytham inquired.

Aiden nodded stiffly.

Since the boy had no intention of elaborating on the dream anymore, Haytham put one arm around Aiden's back and the other behind his knees. "Up we go then," Haytham sighed as he picked the small boy up and walked back over to his own bed. Aiden had moved his hands from his face and wrapped his tiny limbs around his father's neck. He continued to cry into his father's shoulder while Haytham sat himself down on the side of the bed.

Haytham began to slowly rub his son's back as he continued to cry. "It's all right now. Its all over," Haytham comforted in a slow, hushed tone. It was the only thing that he felt was right to say.

"I was scared," Aiden whimpered into Haytham's neck and absorbed the words whispered to him.

"I know, but you are safe now," Haytham nodded.

To Haytham's surprise, he felt Aiden shake his head.

"No," Aiden continued to cry, "You left too."

"Hmm?" Haytham turned his head to get a better look at his son, but could only see the boy's brown hair.

"A-after Mommy left, you never came for- for me," Aiden began to tremble even more as he finally finished. Haytham let Aiden cry into his shoulder one again to allow him some time to get a better grasp on the situation.

Haytham remembered the day he journeyed to Ziio's village. After hearing word of an attack on a Native village, he had finally made the decision to make the trip through the frontier in an attempt to make sure that Ziio had at least survived. Instead, all he found was burnt huts and newly dug burial mounds. To his surprise, he was allowed to at least speak the Natives to make sure they why exactly he was there. But instead of getting a straight answer, he was led to a makeshift hut with a young boy closing in on himself.

In a way, it was like looking into the past. A young boy devoid of happiness or any of the normal qualities a child his age should have. According to their "Clan Mother" the young boy spent the past three to four days with no food and had not spoken a word to anyone. Instead his time was spent in the corner of the hut with the most ghostly eyes Haytham has ever seen.

What if Haytham had not come for his son? Would he have become bitter and even lonelier? Would he have survived such a deep depression? Haytham quickly pushed away such thoughts. He couldn't stomach the thought of his young son withering away till he died. His son was here now, and that's all that mattered.

Haytham's hands traveled to Aiden's shoulders and pushed him back to he could see his face. Aiden's eyes were swollen and pink from crying and his cheeks were sticky with tears. Haytham brought his thumbs to his son's cheeks and wiped away the stray tears. "No matter what, I will always come for you my son," Haytham said with a foreign, soft smile.

Haytham began to stroke Aiden's hair once again, "I will always be here for and I promise that you'll never be alone again."

This time Aiden pushed his face into his father's firm chest and continued to cry, not for fear and sadness, but for relief. Haytham kept his arms safely wrapped around his son until he no longer felt Aiden's shoulders trembling. He gently shifted his son in his arms to no longer see his brown iris. With his son now resting easy, Haytham released a sigh of relief before wondering what to do next.

If Aiden were to wake again, he would only rush to Haytham's side once more. So instead of returning the boy to his own room, Haytham carefully placed him under the covers of his own bed. Aiden barley moved after being placed under the blankets. The young boy sighed in content and pushed himself deeper into his new pillow and continued to sleep peacefully. Haytham's hand stroked his son's a few more times, "Sleep well my son."

Giving his son one last affectionate look, Haytham leaned back into his own pillow and pulled the covers back. Once settled back in, Haytham turned his head to see his son still sleeping soundly. The corner of his lips turned up into a soft smile. Next to him was his son, safe and healthy. In a way it eased his mind to have his son close by se he may keep an eye on him. With one last soft glance, Haytham turned over on his side and was finally able to drift off to sleep with the thought that the adventures of Fatherhood were something he was going to be able to handle.

Or at least that's what he had hoped…

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**There you have it! Short and simple! ****Aiden seemed like a good nickname for him! To me, Raton didn't roll off the tongue as nicely as Aiden :) ****I heven't read Foresaken in a long time, so I'm sorry if I make any mistakes. If any of you amazing writers have any good ideas, then PM or leave a comment and I will be happy to obligde! **


	2. Clingy

**K here's chapter 2, or one-shot 2. I have a few ideas for one-shots, but I'm always up for any ideas you fellow writers have!**

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When Haytham had first brought Aiden to Boston, he never had to worry about the young lad venturing far. Whether it was in the house or at the marketplace, Aiden would never let go of whatever part of his father that could be held. Most of the time it was Haytham's coat. Haytham was always very grateful that his son was, in a roundabout way, clingy. Even when they were at home, Aiden preferred to sit by his father's desk and play rather than playing the privacy of his own room.

That morning, Haytham had forgotten that his maid, Elizabeth, had important family matters to attend to and could not tend to both Haytham and Aiden's needs. In an attempt to get out of the house, Haytham decided it was a good idea to take Aiden into town to stretch his legs. And it would allow Haytham to run a few errands.

As expected, rather than enjoying the sights and sounds, he held a tight grip on Haytham's coat. When Haytham and Aiden reached the bustling marketplace, Haytham removed Aiden's hand from his cloak and held it tight in his own. "Now stay close. I don't want you getting lost in the crowd," Haytham said while looking down on his son.

Aiden nodded, "Okay Daddy."

It felt odd hold his son's hand while walking in the streets. In fact, it was odd having a child all together. But what made it feel even more odd were the odd looks he would get from people walking past them. Despite being dressed in typical colonial clothes, Haytham knew the people of Boston found it odd to see a young Native child grasping the hand of a British noble. Aiden wore knee breeches, socks and shoes, plus a dignified coat that represented his British blood. Amongst his people Aiden blended in well, but in Boston he stuck out like a sore thumb.

"Master Kenway!"

While Haytham and Aiden were at a vendor's stand buying vegetables for lunch, Haytham heard the voice of William Johnson behind them. When William came in Aiden's sights a smile grew on his face when he saw the Irishman.

"Good morning Master Kenway!" William shook Haytham's hand, "Sekoh Ratonhnhaké:ton ."

Aiden quickly spewed a few fast words to William with a happy smile. When Aiden had first moved in with his father, the first few weeks were rough on the boy due to the huge transition with their culture. Luckily William stepped in and provided a helping hand when I came to teaching Aiden how to adjust to a colonial lifestyle. The two would often carry conversations in fluent Mohawk leaving Haytham to just watch and listen. In a way, it made Haytham jealous seeing his son so talkative with someone else.

"So what brings you two here?" William asked politely.

"Miss Elizabeth is currently unavailable, so Aiden and I must tend to the morning chores," Haytham explained briefly.

"I see," William smirked, "Will you be able to make it to the meeting next week?"

"Yes. Who knows what else so damned Assassins are up to. Hopefully…"

Aiden quickly tuned out the "grown-up" conversation and began to busy himself with looking around the square. While Haytham was conversing with William, he had unintentionally let go of Aiden's hand so he could use his hand gestures. Of course, Aiden didn't leave his father's side while he explored with his eyes. Out of the corner of his view, he saw something white and gold move and scurry in and out of the crowd.

When the sound of a high pitched bark sounded through the crowd, a mischievous grin grew on Aiden's face.

* * *

"Well then, we should discuss this at the meeting," William nodded.

Haytham nodded, "Yes. We should be getting back anyway. It's almost lunchtime and I don't want leave Aiden hungry. Alright, Aiden say goodbye to-"

Haytham turned to his side to face his son, but his heart nearly stopped when he saw his son was nowhere to be found. Worry quickly turned into panic when Haytham could not see any sign of his son. "Aiden!" Haytham shouted into the crowd. Why hadn't he noticed that Aiden had wondered off earlier? He should have seen! How the people passing by were no longer giving him odd stares and look of disapproval.

William seemed just as concerned when Aiden had not answered to his father's calls. "He could not have gotten far," William stated

Haytham nodded in agreement, "You stay here incase he comes wondering back. I'll go and search the streets."

Haytham did not wait for an answer. Instead he rushed off into the crowd, pushing people aside while calling for his son. How had the boy wonder off without him noticing? The Grand Master had never felt such fear before. Because before he knew it, he had gone over every terrible situation the boy could get himself into. What if slavers got a hold of him? What if the Assassins had gotten word of Haytham siring a son and decided to use him as leverage to get what they want?

For what seemed like hours, Haytham searched the area surrounding the market. If Aiden did wonder off by himself then he couldn't have gotten far. Just Haytham was about to have a heart attack over not finding his son; he heard the unmistakable sound of someone speaking Mohawk. Following the voice, Haytham came across Aiden kneeling by a puppy with white, tanned spots at the corner of the street.

"Aiden!" Haytham exclaimed in relief.

Aiden's head whipped around and smiled at his father, which quickly left his face when he saw how angry his father was. Haytham approached Aiden and gripped both his shoulders with angry written all over his face.

"You nearly gave me a heart attack! What were you thinking young man!?" Haytham said furiously as he quickly searched Aiden for any injuries. Despite the occasional dirt stain on his socks and shirt, he was unharmed.

Aiden quickly recoiled whatever he was going to say and looked away from his father's angered gaze.

"I am sorry Daddy," Aiden apologized.

Haytham scoffed, "Sorry?! That is all you have to say boy? You could have been killed is the wrong person had found you!"

Haytham was about to continue berating his son, but quickly stopped when he saw that Aiden's lips began to quiver. Realizing how harsh he must have sounded, Haytham sighed deeply before softening his tone of voice.

"I was very worried that I had lost you," Haytham said slowly, catching Aiden's attention, "Just make sure you never do that again, understand?"

Aiden nodded in agreement before taking Haytham's hand and giving it a tight squeeze. This time Haytham made sure that he would never let go of Aiden's hand. 'I guess I spoke to soon about Aiden being too clingy,' Haytham thought to himself.

Just a Haytham was about to walk off with Aiden in tow; he quickly stopped when Aiden didn't budge. Aiden was glued to the same spot and looked down at the puppy pawing at Aiden's feet. Haytham didn't mind animals, but he favored the thought of having any animal other than a horse.

His son whipped his head up to his father with a rare, wide grin. "Can we keep him?"

Haytham brought his hand up and pinched the bridge of his nose. He _defiantly_ spoke to soon.

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**I think we all tried to pull this with our parents at some point or another! I know Haytham is a very observent person, but I got the feeling that little Aiden would be the type to know how to give his father the slip XD Thnx for reading! R&R**


	3. Friends

**SuperMangaFan89: This looks really good, so far!  
Maybe one of your next tales could be about Aiden trying to fit in with the other children. Just an idea!  
Please, keep writing!  
**

**Ask and you shall receive! Here's a cute drapple mainly about Aiden, but Haytham still has a role in it! Enjoy!**

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Life in Boston would never feel like home even after almost a year of living within the stone forest. There were no trees to climb but the brick mountains that the white men called home. Aiden longed to run through the forests surrounding Kanatahséton, to play with the other children of his village. But it was futile wishing to go home. _This _place, where his father lived, was his _home _now. Instead, the closest he could get to his previous home, was to lie in the grass in the front yard.

Since their medium sized home was closer to the outside of Boston, the homes were much more spread apart to accommodate the rich. The Kenway home was a large white house with a grey roof. It had a brick staircase leading to the front door with two white columns on each side, holding up a small roof that went over a small, round balcony beneath it. Forest green shutters lined each window that had light blue curtains in each window. There were also covered decks with white fencing on the first floor that reach halfway around the sides of the house.

Most children would love to live in such a luxurious home, however the part Aiden loved the most was the front yard. In Boston, there was hardly any plant life other than the occasional patch of grass and tree. Carefully cut hedges were trimmed into a round shape and lined the fence on both sides that separated the yard from the street. Small trees that bore flowers in the spring were placed on both sides of the metal gate.

Often times, Aiden found himself standing on the other side of the fence, too scared to venture beyond its metal and brick barrier. Sometimes, other children would play in the streets while Aiden hid quickly in the bushes. Aiden didn't know why he hid from them. They were just children after all.

Earlier that day, Haytham had left to take care of business deeper in the heart of Boston and would be back by supper. When Aiden first moved with his Father to Boston, Haytham was home 24/7 for the first month. Every once in a while, one of his associates would pop by for tea and to talk business, but Aiden paid them no mind. But as Aiden had grown more accustomed to his new lifestyle, Haytham had begun to leave more and more frequently. Sometimes for days at a time, but Aiden knew his father would always come home. But in his absence, Elizabeth was left to tend to Aiden's every need.

Around mid day, Aiden was once again in the front yard enjoying the fresh air until he heard a voice calling out in the streets.

"Father! Father, where are you!"

Aiden's head popped up and he quickly ran to the fence. A young boy, around Aiden's age, was wondering the streets in front of their home. He had dark skin with a shaved head and he wore a cream shirt and turquoise waistcoat with brown pants and boots. His head darted back in forth looking for most likely his father. The boy kept searching with his head until he locked gazes with Aiden through the fence.

The two stared at each other for a long while before the mystery boy spoke up, "Hey you!"

In that instant Aiden felt like he was a deer being hunted by a cougar. And like a deer, Aiden was about to flee back into the safety of his home before the boy spoke up again. "Hey wait, don't go," the boy pleaded in a more desperate voice.

What had made him stop, he did not know, but Aiden halted in his tracks and he turned to see the boy standing at the iron gate with his hands on the bars, "Don't go." Up close, the dark skinned boy looked more innocent than foreign.

"Who are you?" Aiden finally asked.

The other boy's face loosened, "Connor. And you?"

"Aiden," he answered, "Where are you from? I have never seen you here before."

Connor's eyes turned to the pavement in downcast. "I don't live here," he said slowly, "I'm here with my father but I can't find him."

Aiden quickly remembered his own father drilling him in what to do if they had ever gotten separated. _"They right where you are," _he said, _"Don't wander or talk to anyone. Wait for me to come to you."_

"Why don't you wait here for your father to come get you?" Aiden quickly suggested.

Connor didn't seem to understand, "Wait here?"

"Yes," Aiden said, "My daddy always told me to stay in one spot if I ever got lost. You can wait here ad we can play."

Connor pondered for a moment while Aiden fiddled with the latch on the gate. The metal bars swung open allowing Connor to come inside. Aiden was a bit nervous about playing with another boy, but this was the first time another child had ever spoken to him before. And he was sure that Miss Elizabeth wouldn't mind. After a moment, Connor lifted his head with a smile plastered on his lips, "Okay!"

The two played for hours in the front lawn. They played tag and hide and seek. And along the way, Aiden had completely forgotten how nervous he was about playing with Connor in the first place. Connor was kind and playful, just as much as the other children back in Aiden's village. He wasn't like the rich kids that loved in the same upper-class district that he did, he wasn't spoiled at all. He looked at Aiden as a playmate, not someone bellow him.

"Connor!" A deep raspy voice called from the street. The boys looked up to a see a man standing in the road with a relieved smile on his face. He wore clothes slightly above the middle class attire with a sword strapped to his side. He had dark skin like Connors, with a black wig with curls on the side.

"Father!" Connor cheered before running through the gate and throwing his arms around his father.

"Dear Lord, never do that again! Where have you been?" Connor's father said with a tone that was firm and scolding, and tender and relieved.

Connor tugged on the sleeve of his father's coat and gestured to Aiden, "Playing with Aiden."

"Aiden?" He questioned and looked up at the small Native still in the front lawn. Aiden had not yet moved from that very spot.

"Aiden!" Connor called to his friend and grabbed his attention, "Come meet my father!"

Slowly, but cautiously, Aiden approached the pair while fiddling with his fingernails. He looked up at Connor's father with nervous eyes. The man was tall compared to Aiden, he was shorter than his own father, but the air of authority surrounded him. The man seemed to understand why Aiden was so nervous and gently patted his head.

"There is no reason for you to be afraid lad," the man tried to reassured him, "So, you kept my son company have you?"

"Yes sir," Aiden responded quietly.

The man chuckled, "I see. Now why aren't you off playing with the other children? Does you're father not allow to venture far?"

Aiden swallowed, "Yes sir. I- I do not know many other children, and my father does not like it when I wander too far from the house."

"Your father is wise then," the man smiled, "So where is your-"

Connor's father was soon cut off by a deep, firm voice, "Aiden!"

Aiden turned his head to see his father standing where the face to their house began. Haytham had a look of anger and furry on his face, but Aiden didn't notice. He was too excited that his father was finally and quickly ran and wrapped his arms around Haytham's waist. "Daddy you are home!" Aiden cheered happily but received no answer. Instead, Haytham pried away Aiden's arms and pushed to boy behind him in a protective manner.

"Daddy?" Aiden clutched Haytham's arm and looked up with a questioning glance. However, Haytham's eyes were locked on Connor's father. Connor seemed just as confused as Aiden and looked between his father and his new friend with worry.

"So he is _your_ son," Connor's father stated, "I must say I never imagined you to father any children with a heart that is as cold as yours."

Haytham scowled, "What are you doing here Assa- Achilles?" Aiden didn't really notice that his father quickly corrected himself.

"Hmph, none of your concern Haytham. Now if you will excuse me, I must take my son home," _Achilles _said as he took hold of Connor's hand and began to guide him away from the scene.

Connor looked back at Aiden with a melancholy glance, "Bye Aiden."

"Bye Connor," Aiden waved and waited with his father until the pair was out of sight.

Aiden looked up at Haytham with a confused look. Haytham seemed to be in a world of his own as his eyes lingered on the spot where Achilles and Connor once stood. After a moment of not moving, Aiden tugged a few times on Haytham's arm.

"Daddy? What is wrong?" Aiden asked.

Haytham's eye widened for a moment before they softened as they locked onto his son's gaze. "Ah, it's nothing," Haytham said to reassure his son, "Now let's head inside and see what Elizabeth is cooking."

Aiden's face quickly changed from confused sadness to excitement as he walked with Haytham into their home. When they were safely tucked away in their home, Aiden pondered on what had happened as he freshened up for dinner. While he wasn't sure if he was ever going to find friends in the city, he was certainly glad he had met Connor and he hoped that he would somehow meet him again.

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**Now i know that Connor died a year before Aiden was born, and that if he lived he would be about eight years older, but i changed it around to make flow a bit better! R&R!**

**Another special thnx to ****SuperMangaFan89 who **suggested this good idea!


	4. Soft

**Srry it took so long to update but I've had a lot on my plate ****lately. This chapter may seem a bit rushed so heads up if I made any mistakes!**

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Life in the Kenway home followed a very boring pattern. Every morning Haytham would wake around sunrise and deal with any of his Templar duties before he woke Aiden around a few hours later. Then the two would share breakfast before Aiden begun his lessons with his father. After that Aiden had the entire day to himself until dinnertime.

Dinnertime was Aiden's favorite time of the day where he could finally meet with his father after a day of work. It was a time where they no longer had any duties to attend to or lessons to memorize. However there were some nights that the two did not have to themselves. There were some nights that were shared with Haytham's brother's-in-arms.

Aiden, at first, found it hard to be around the group of men. Charles Lee specifically due to his distaste for the natives, but he did hold his tongue in the presence of his Grand Master. Instead of clinging to his father's side, Aiden kept Elizabeth company in the kitchen. Elizabeth enjoyed the company and loved teaching Aiden how to shape rolls and bake sweets. After all, most boys would distaste getting involved with kitchen work. Haytham also preferred it that way. He never felt comfortable sharing the dinner table with Aiden and his comrades at the same time. It deprived them of the opportunity to talk business.

Around eight o'clock the dishes were empty, but the smears of the food were all that was left. Now the Templars were simply sipping whine, or in Hickey's case rum. When the clock began to chime, Haytham called for Elizabeth. His maid appeared in the doorway with Aiden clutching her skirt with one hand and the other at his side. "While I clean the table Master Kenway," she began politely, "Can you put Aiden to bed for me?"

Haytham swallowed hard, "You may put him to bed first if you like."

"But Aiden wishes for you to do it," Elizabeth said quickly. Haytham's eyes landed on his son. Aiden was rubbing his eye with his hand indicating his tired state.

Elizabeth had no respect when it came to Aiden. She had several children in her life and was the one who pushed Haytham when it came to his fatherly duties. Even in the presence of his guests. A wave of embarrassment surged through Haytham as he gave the Templars a quick sideways glance. He knew William and Pitcairn didn't really mind, but Haytham desperately tried to maintain the firm and serious authority in front of Order. But having a child made that very difficult.

"Alright then," Haytham sighed and pushed himself from his seat, "Forgive me I'll return in just a moment." He turned and gave his fellow Templar's a polite nod before beckoning his son to follow him up stairs. When they reached the stairs Aiden began to sway from exhaustion. His father looked down at him before scooping him up into his arms. Aiden lay limp on Haytham's shoulder as he ascended the stairs into Aiden's room.

With some help from his father, Aiden was finally dressed and tucked into his bed. Though the strings of dreamland kept on tugging at Aiden's eyes, he remained awake to be with Haytham. Seeing that his son was still awake, Haytham began to gently rub his son's back until he was asleep. When he first brought Aiden to Boston, or even to the inn where they stayed after they left the village, he spent many nights rubbing his son's back until he fell asleep. At first he was hesitant at such physical contact but he quickly remember why he did this for his son and it soon became natural.

Aiden's steady breathing and relaxed face finally gave the okay that he was finally asleep. Haytham gave Aiden a light kiss on the brow before he finally blew out the candles and closed the door behind him. Several times over the past year, Haytham had put Aiden to bed without making sure he was asleep first. This only ending with Aiden having an uneasy night which led to him either coming into Haytham's room later in the night or Aiden not sleeping a wink and falling asleep during his lessons.

After Aiden was tucked in, Haytham returned to his associates. The group spoke for a little while longer before they left around a half an hour to an hour later. The rest of the Templars left quickly, but Charles had stayed behind to have a few more words with his Grand Master.

"How much longer do you intend to keep _him _here?" Charles said with irritation lacing every word.

Haytham already distasted Charles' tone of voice, "You speak as if Aiden's stay is temporary."

"It should be," Charles said bluntly, "Having a child with the sort of work you do will only hinder you from you actually duties."

"Hinder me how Charles?" Haytham crossed his arms, "When have I ever shown any disobedience toward the Order? Hmm? Because everything that I have done has done nothing but benefit the Order."

Charles' face scrunched, "Tch- You have gone soft Master Kenway. Every since you brought that- that _thing_ back with you!" Charles was nearly shouting at this point.

"Do not address my son as a _thing _Charles," Haytham replied venomously before opening the front door. He stood to the side, tall and resolute. "I think it's about time you left Charles."

Charles snarled as he walked out the door, but stopped abruptly on the doorstep. "You know I'm right."

Haytham was silent as he shut the door. After the lock clicked into place he sighed lightly, "Perhaps you are right."

When Haytham reached the top of the stairs, the door to Aiden's room creaked open. Aiden's brown eyes peaked through the door before it opened enough for Aiden to squeeze through.

"Aiden? You were supposed to be asleep," Haytham crouch down with his hands on his knees.

Aiden fiddled with the end of his knight shirt while he spoke, "I heard shouting."

Haytham stood up and ruffled Aiden's hair gently, "Do not fret my son. Come now, off to bed." He guided Aiden back to his room and once again tucked the boy into bed. While he was rubbing his son's back, Aiden spoke up once more.

"Daddy?"

"Hmm?"

Aiden sucked in a breath; "You won't send me back to the village will you?"

Haytham was caught off guard by this question because he truly didn't know the answer. He had made many enemies over the years and his occupation had isolated him from normal activities a normal man would have. And already Aiden had been subdued to such treatment. There were some nights where Haytham would lie awake fretting over worst possible scenarios. Most of which ended up with his precious son injured, taken, or worse. Then Haytham would contemplate sending Aiden back to say in his village where he knew it was safe. He would have William purchase the land so it could not be intruded upon or bought by a power hungry lord. Leaving his son in safe and tranquil hands.

Stealing one look at his drifting son, Haytham couldn't bear to look away. Now that he had the lad in his life, he couldn't imagine his life without him. He couldn't imagine Aiden not clinging to his cloak, begging him to keep a stray he found on the side of the road, or running into his father's arms where the boy knew it was safe. In the end, Haytham's life was no a part of Aiden's. They were a family.

Haytham smiled sadly through the darkness before kissing Aiden's forehead. When he pulled away, Aiden was already fast asleep and dreaming calmly.

"Never my son," Haytham tightened the cover around Aiden, "Never will I ever leave you."

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**Okay here's an end to one-shot #4! I hope you all enjoyed R&R PLz!**


	5. Gift

**I know in chapter three it takes place almost a year after Aiden moved in with Haytham, but this one-shot goes back in time a bit. **

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Christmas. Haytham never truly celebrated the holiday. The merry cheer and love shared within families during Christmas only reminded him of what he had lost long ago. But now, he had something to gain.

It was Aiden's first Christmas in Boston and it brought life into the Kenway home. There was no such holiday in the Mohawk culture, which made Aiden even more excited. Elizabeth quickly explained the meaning of Christmas to Aiden and put in the minor religious details of the holiday so he could understand. But it didn't matter in the end. All Aiden could understand was the great food, presents, and fun in the snow. When Haytham was a boy, his family didn't really take part in Christmas as much as other families. So Haytham had no love for Christmas whatsoever.

Instead, his Christmas Eve was spent in his study working at his desk. Elizabeth scolded him for being such a grouch on a day full of happiness, but Haytham only waved her off. Typically Elizabeth would take the entire day off to be with her family but Aiden's presence kept her for some part of the day. Though no one could replace Ziio as Aiden's mother, he was glad Elizabeth could watch over him in a way a mother would. In a way, it took a load off of Haytham shoulders.

Haytham put his quill back in the inkpot and turned his attention to the window beside him. Aiden was wearing a thick coat, scarf, gloves, boots, and tricorn hat out in the snow. Just as Haytham instructed, Aiden did not go beyond the yard and simply watched as the other children played in the snow. He expected his son to wander off as soon as he got the chance, but instead he walked around and kicked at the snow as he walked. It was uncanny how much Aiden and Haytham shared in common; other than blood. He remembered the isolation and not having friend in the world. He was alone as a child and Haytham disliked such a childhood for his only son.

After another stack of paperwork, Haytham put on his coat and glove sand made his way to the door to only see that his favorite scarf and hat were missing from he coat rack. Where could they have gone? He could have sworn he placed his hat and scarf back on the rack when he entered the house. While he explored any ideas of where his hat could be, he noticed faint laughter coming from the kitchen. Cocking a brow, he made his way to the kitchen to see Elizabeth chuckling at something outside the window.

Haytham watched from the doorway curiously, "Mrs. Elizabeth have you seen my hat and scarf?"

Elizabeth turned around with her hand to her lips to withhold her laughter. The crow's feet by her eyes were more noticeable and her cheek had gone pink. She motioned to the window with her hand, "See for yourself!"

Haytham walked over to the window to see what exactly had caught Elizabeth attention. When he looked outside he didn't know whether or not to chuckle or scowl. Lord behold, his hat and scarf were tied around a lopsided snowman under one of the trees. His navy and gold hat was placed on its hat with his red scarf roughly wrapped around its neck. Small pebbles Aiden must have found up made up they snowman's face with a crooked smile. Rocks also made up a button pattern on its chest that looked similar to Haytham's own coat. In a way, it made Haytham feel more uplifted to see his son midleing a snowman after him.

Haytham rubbed his neck, "Dear Lord! Thank goodness he did not _borrow _my coat as well."

Elizabeth snickered again in agreement, "Perhaps you should bring Aiden inside. He's been in the snow for a good while now."

Haytham nodded silently before he exited the kitchen through the house's back door. The weather was cold, hence the snow, but thank the lord there was no wind. Haytham's footsteps crunched as he made his way to the snowman and took back his hat and scarf. How his son made off with his clothes without him noticing was beyond him, but he was grateful no damage came to them. Speaking of his son…

"Aiden?" Haytham called and searched the yard. Despite just seeing him through the window, Aiden was nowhere to be seen. "Damn where did that boy- Gah!" Haytham was quickly caught off guard when something cold smashed against the back of his head. Whatever it was made a popping noise as it slammed against him.

Haytham stumbled forward and rubbed the back of his head. Soft giggling could be heard from behind him. Before Haytham could see who it was, a blur of white came at him and be quickly blocked it with his arm. Someone was throwing snowballs at him- no his son was throwing snowballs at him.

Aiden stood at the other end of the yard with a large grin plastered on his face. His laughter at his father's expense echoed through the backyard as he shaped another snowball in his hand. Again, Haytham didn't know how to react. He had never busied himself with snowball fights as a child since there were no other children to play with, but neither did Aiden. For a moment, Haytham wondered if his own father would have played with him like this if he were not so busy with his work. Would he have descended to a level that would allow him to loosen up to play with his own son?

He was about to scold Aiden and tell him to stop, but he quickly held his tongue when he saw the smile on Aiden's face. Aiden hadn't smiled so brightly, so playfully, in so long. Though he wouldn't admit it, it made Haytham's heart melt with fatherly pride. So instead of scolding him like he planned, he gather snow in his hands and quickly threw a snowball in Aiden's direction. Aiden squealed in delight as he ducked under the snowball and threw another at his father. Haytham turned and allowed the snowball to his shoulder.

For the first time in a long time, Haytham let out a playful laugh before running after his son. Aiden laughed as well when Haytham caught him and began to tickle his sides playfully. "No Daddy!" Aiden laughed. Haytham stopped for a moment allowing Aiden to catch his breath and throw his arms around his father's neck. Aiden's laugh echoed through the yard and Haytham couldn't help but smile happily.

"Master Kenway! Aiden!" Elizabeth called from the window, "Lunch is ready!"

"We're coming," Haytham called back as he walked back with Aiden sitting on his forearm and leaning on his shoulder.

Unexpectedly, Aiden gave his father a sideways hug around his neck with his cheek pressed against Haytham's. "Merry Christmas Daddy!" Haytham stood there for a moment and enjoyed the warmed of Aiden against his face. It reminded him that he no longer was alone in this world. His lonely life was behind him and he now had a true family. His childhood had never been so happy, so seeing his son full of cheer was the greatest gift Haytham could ever have. No- Haytham greatest gift _is _his son.

"Merry Christmas son."

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**All right here's a sweet Christmas one-shot to get you all in the spirit of the holidays! Christmas back then was pretty different from how we celebrate it today and Haytham didn't seem like a church kinda' guy. I hope you all liked it! R&R for the Haytham Snowman!****  
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